


Cherry Blossoms On the Mind

by sweetNsimple



Series: Orange Roses and White Lilies [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Cisco, Boundaries, M/M, Masturbation, No Sex, Nudity, Relationship Discussions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7373581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Cisco dutifully and reluctantly did laundry, Harry faced a dilemma in the shower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherry Blossoms On the Mind

It was three in the morning on a Saturday night and a wide awake Harry was caught underneath a drooling Cisco in a twin-sized bed.

He was a fool and he was in love for the second time in literal decades.  What a mess.  _He_ was a mess. 

 _Cisco_ was a mess.

This mess was working out surprisingly well for them. 

He rubbed at his irritated eyes and then let his arm fall over Cisco’s shoulders, stroking the younger man’s long hair out of his face.  His one cheek was smushed against Harry’s chest and his mouth parted slightly, Cisco looked disturbingly young and familiarly ridiculous.  Most romance novels would try to say that he looked at peace and gorgeous and that Harry was swooning over his sleeping form, but such was not the case.

When asleep, Cisco fidgeted.  He twitched and he jerked and he murmured nonsensical and sometimes terrifying things under his breath.  Harry had heard “Please love me” and “I know a person who knows how to do a lobotomy, asshole” during the same night once while staying with Cisco and it was often that he wondered whom Cisco had been speaking to in his dreams.

Also, again, Cisco drooled.  Harry was certain that nothing could be less attractive, but then Cisco would prove him wrong by snorting, giggling, and then kicking Harry in the side before going back into deep sleep. 

The fact that Harry was still in bed with Cisco was a testimony to three things:

One, Harry was insane.  Obviously.

Two, Harry was in love.  Surprisingly.

Three, Harry was tired of being alone.  Sadly.

If a fourth reason had to be given for propriety’s sake, he would be forced to add that Cisco was warm and heavy on top of him, a comforting weight that kept Harry bound to earth instead of drifting away in the labyrinth of his mind.

Harry feathered the lightest brush of his thumb over Cisco’s cheekbone.  “I kill bees,” Cisco said to no one in particular.

“I hear they’re endangered in this dimension.  You may want to stop that,” Harry told the sleeping man.

“Yellow’s a nice color,” Cisco shot back, sounding offended.

“I couldn’t agree less.  Yellow is too bright.”

“Please don’t kill me,” Cisco whispered.

Harry pressed a kiss to Cisco’s brow and smoothed away the lines forming there with his lips.  Cisco sighed and floated away from whatever dreams had been assaulting him.  He snored softly and curled his fingers into Harry’s night shirt.

Perhaps _that_ was slightly adorable.

Cisco was still doing laundry first thing in the morning, though, beginning with Harry’s nighttime clothes.

~::~

While Cisco dutifully and reluctantly did laundry, Harry faced a dilemma in the shower.  He had his dick in his hand, lightly stroking the tip, and it just occurred to him that he had no idea if he was allowed to jerk off to images of Cisco, of Cisco fellating him, of Cisco opening himself up for him.

Harry was a visual man with a quick mind.  There were many things he could do, but reaching orgasm without someone in mind or in person was both unfulfilling and tedious.  He couldn’t think of Tess without wanting to break the shower stall tiles and creating a random third person to jerk off to was too much work just to release some tension. 

He stared down at his dick and his dick sent messages up to his brain, tempting him to think of Cisco kissing him, of those kisses getting lower, of those cherry-flavored lips wrapped around –

If sex with Cisco was not an option, Harry thought irately to himself, then was sex with an imaginary Cisco also not an option or alright? 

This was going to have to be one of the boundaries he discussed with Cisco.  There was no doubt in his mind that Cisco was going to get curious someday about what Harry thought about when he pleasured himself and he didn’t want to tell his significant other the truth and have Cisco become afraid of him.

Either Cisco would be okay with this, Harry decided, or he would think that Harry expected more of him and wasn’t satisfied with their current relationship. 

He sighed as he turned the water toward frigid and braced himself for the icy tundra that fell down him. 

Fifteen minutes later, still shivering but otherwise showing no outward sign that he had attempted to jerk off in the shower, he dressed and went in search of his significant other.  In Cisco’s small apartment, it wasn’t so hard to find him – he followed the pure notes of Tha Los’s _Open Your Eyes_ and stepped into the kitchen.  A mixing bowl was on the table and Cisco was at the stove, simultaneously stirring what appeared to be quinoa in a saucepan and keeping an eye on eggs frying in a skillet.  Cisco sang all the while, no radio in sight, and Harry stood in the doorway for some time. 

He was happy.  Had Cisco honestly thought that he needed a lover to feel so content just last week?  This was contentment.  Watching Cisco make breakfast, listening to him sing to himself, the aroma of _Huevos Rancheros_ saturating Cisco’s shoebox apartment – it satisfied him on a level an unfamiliar and new lover never could. 

“We need to discuss more boundaries,” he said in lieu of announcing his arrival.

“Shit!” Cisco yelled, and some salsa from the quinoa splashed across the stovetop as he spun around to glare at Harry.  “Don’t _do_ that!”

Harry smiled with very sharp teeth as he prowled deeper into the kitchen.  He made his stand by the mixing bowl, mostly so that he could sample Cisco’s homemade salsa.  “Masturbation,” he announced.  Cisco made an animal sound of pain and confusion.  “What is and is not okay?”

“Um,” Cisco eloquently replied, like the true genius he was.  “I don’t know?  It’s your body?  Whatever works for you?”

“Even if what works for me is imagining you?”

As he had half-suspected he would, Cisco froze and looked at Harry like a deer looked into headlights right before the end.  “I _told_ you –”

“I’m not asking you to fulfill any of my fantasies,” Harry interrupted, knowing where this was going and not wanting to go back to that argument.  “I’m asking to use your likeness.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that,” Cisco wheezed. 

“Think about it and get back to me later.”  He took a seat at the table.  Deciding to break the tension by being an asshole, he declared in his most demanding and snobbish tone, “For now, I expect you to feed me.”

That was how Harry began World War III in the kitchen.  When he – not to his surprise – came out victorious, his reward was _Huevos Rancheros_ for breakfast and all of his tools locked in a safe by lunchtime at S.T.A.R. Labs.

“Hah,” he muttered as he struggled with picking the lock.  Cisco had his back to him, being obnoxiously loud as he slurped his coffee and watched Central City traffic on his computer monitor.  “Very mature, Cisco.”

The safe door finally opened and, in his silence, Cisco chirped gleefully, “Someone has to be the adult here, so I thought you should have age-appropriate tools.”

Harry pulled out a plastic Craftsman hammer. 

The look he sent the back of Cisco’s head was dry enough to turn the desert to dust and all he got for it was Cisco snickering.

“Where are my tools, Cisco?”

“You’re looking at them.”

“Where are my _actual_ tools?”

“Everyone has to start somewhere, Harry – what, don’t you like it?  It’s the thirty piece set.  You can build to your heart’s content without endangering anyone’s wellbeing.”

Harry cursed and fumed and finally found his real tools in the Pipeline.  It was already humiliating, but then it became somehow worse when he returned to the workshop where Cisco had been and found Jesse instead.  She was playing with the toy tool set Cisco had gotten him.

She looked up at him and smirked.  “I’m building a dog house for you.”

“Jesse,” Harry growled.  “You are the light of my life, my sole reason for existence – shut the Hell up.”

“Would you like a couch in that dog house?”

“I’m not in the dog house.”

“Of course not,” Jesse soothed.  “I haven’t built it yet.”

~::~

Harry wasn’t so sure for the rest of the day if Cisco was upset about Harry asking if he could masturbate to thoughts of him or about the breakfast incident. 

He was hoping for the breakfast incident. 

~::~

That night, Harry hesitated to text Cisco and ask where they were staying the night.  Even before they had finally become an item, it was familiar for them to sleep in the same place.  For the past few months, Harry or Cisco had both been prone to stumble toward the other in the middle of the night and begin a theoretical conversation.  For Cisco, the conversation usually began with, “Okay, so, picture this –”

For Harry, most conversations of the creative sort began with him pushing Cisco out of bed or off the couch, telling him to wake up, and then regaling him with his genius while Cisco cursed him and glared. 

There had even been times when they had slept on the same surface.  Such surfaces had most often been floors or tables, strangely enough, and Harry still remembered the time they had woken up on the S.T.A.R. Labs employee kitchen floor with trepidation and confusion.

Now that they were an item, they had made it to a bed every night.  Every night, Cisco flopped on him, drooled, and talked about nonsensical things while Harry stared at the ceiling and wondered why he was damned to be an insomniac and suffer through it all awake.

Every night, Harry followed Cisco to bed and got in without hesitation.  His bed or Cisco’s bed and sometimes even the hospital beds in the cortex bridge – they were beds and Cisco was in them, therefore Harry was also in them.

But would Cisco _want_ to share a bed that night of all nights?  Harry still wasn’t sure if his discussion with Cisco that morning had discomforted his significant other.  He hadn’t been able to get more than a handful of words out of Cisco since the toy tool set prank and Cisco hadn’t been keen of looking Harry in the eye at all.

Harry might have made a mess of things and not the usual sort of mess that was his and Cisco’s day-to-day life. 

He pondered if he shouldn’t have asked, if he should have just masturbated and kept his fantasies to himself.  He could have quelled any questioning about his fantasies with an eyebrow and a cutting remark and then, after some familiar fighting, all would have been well again with Cisco none the wiser.  Everything could have been okay, if only he hadn’t asked.

Another part knew that that was the coward in him speaking, willing to hurt the ones he loved in order to protect them. 

~::~

At a quarter to two in the morning, he decided that Cisco was not going to text, and so he retreated from the lab and wandered to his own sorry-looking cot.  He should possibly upgrade.  He was on Barry’s payroll on top of having money he had withdrawn from his Earth-1 before escaping. 

It didn’t seem to be a priority and he didn’t have the energy to make it one.  Even Cisco merely dropped into the cot and moved until there was barely room for two.  There was never any complaint in the morning about the cramped space or the thin mattress.

Most likely because the cramped space and thin mattress had been there before Harry, meant for S.T.A.R. Labs employees who were working late, also known as Cisco Ramon who some nights didn’t even actually sleep.

Like tonight.

Cisco was still awake and sitting on Harry’s cot, staring down at his hands.

Harry watched him cautiously, doorknob in hand and wondering if he should leave the door open or shut it behind him as he slowly approached.

“I don’t mind,” were the first words Cisco said.  He looked up at Harry.  “I can’t – you can’t touch me.  If you try, I’ll probably have a panic attack.  And I can’t touch you.”  He glanced down Harry’s body.  “But there’s other stuff I can do to help you.”

Harry was officially confused, which often happened with Cisco.  “I don’t understand,” he admitted, and that felt like something he had already said, word for word.

“You can jerk off to me,” Cisco clarified, looking disturbingly put together without a blush in sight.  He looked very serious, actually, and it was disconcerting how important this matter was to him.

But, then, Harry remembered.  Others had left Cisco over this before.  Harry forced himself to pay closer attention to Cisco’s body language, trying to discern how much of this permission was forced and how much was something Cisco was actually okay with. 

Aside from seeming like he was battle-ready, Cisco _didn’t_ seem to mind.

“I see,” he finally said.  “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.  I’ve thought about it a lot – had to, actually.  No one’s every asked me before.”

“I’m still waiting for their contact information.”

“Well, you’re not getting it, so suck it up.”

“We’ll see.”

“ _Anyway_ , what I’m _trying_ to tell you is that – for your jerk off material…”

He was instantly weary.  “Yes?”

Cisco nibbled on his bottom lip, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt.  “It can’t be sexual.  You can’t, like, grope me or anything.  But, I’ve thought about it and…  I don’t mind being naked in front of you.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and firmly grasped his self-control with both hands. 

Naked Cisco.

So much warm, mocha skin, most likely smooth and soft, and with his build of muscles and soft slopes both… 

“But I can’t touch,” Harry added, voice hoarse.

“You can’t touch me _sexually_.  If you wanna, like, do that thing where you pet me, we can try that.  You’ll stop if I tell you to.”

Behind that certainty was a hint of fear.  The fear that Harry _wouldn’t_ stop.

“Of course,” he said, answering the unasked question.

Of course he would stop.  He almost didn’t even want to begin in case he caused Cisco to become too uncomfortable.  Others had forced Cisco into situations he hadn’t wanted, had taken more than he had been willing to give, had made him feel like less, like he was broken and unlovable.

Harry didn’t want to be another person pushing Cisco to do things he didn’t want to do. 

Yet, with his words, Cisco nodded, stood up, and began stripping.  There was nothing sexy or sensual about clothes falling the floor, but, instead, made Harry feel as if Cisco was in a rush to take a shower or as if Cisco had just realized that his clothes were infested with poisonous spiders.

It was decidedly not thrilling in the least.

Every span of skin revealed, however, was quite thrilling, and Harry stood there in awe of flesh that looked like it had been kissed by the sun and tenderly loved on a beach somewhere.  Cisco _looked_ like a vacation to the tropics, almost to the point that Harry could hear the faintest murmur of the ocean.

Then he realized that that was his blood thrumming through his veins and he forced himself to breathe again.

The Star Trek underwear came off as well and Harry had to stop breathing out of self-defense or else make an obscene noise.

Cisco looked self-conscious and jittery in Harry’s cramped space, trying not to cross his arms over his body and instead tapping out a rhythm on his thighs.

Harry searched his mind for words.  “You’re beautiful,” he said, and Cisco blinked at him.  “Are you sure I can touch you?”

“Do _not_ touch my dangly bits.  But, yeah.”

“Your dangly bits,” Harry mocked softly, but still came forward.  He projected every motion so that it was no surprise when his fingertips ghosted over Cisco’s cheeks.  Cisco still jumped, and then was soothed when Harry kissed him.

Often and many times until Cisco was more relaxed against him.

It was exciting to have Cisco naked while he was still fully clothed.  He made certain to keep his somewhat interested dick far from Cisco as his hands moved to discover more.  They trailed over Cisco’s shoulders and down his chest, spanned his ribs and then circled around to stroke his back.  Every new area caused Cisco to jerk again, but it was only surprise and nerves.  Every time Harry looked into Cisco’s eyes, there was determination and something growing that resembled pleasure. 

“This actually feels a little nice,” Cisco murmured against his mouth.  “Can you scratch between my shoulders?  U-up a bit, Oh, wow, _thank you_.  That feels fantastic.”

Harry snorted and used his free hand to gouge the width of Cisco’s one shoulder blade.  Fingers splayed, he let it drag down Cisco’s body until his significant other froze, approximately around the small of his back.  Harry nodded and brought the hand back up. 

It was good to know his limits.  He also wanted Cisco to know that he respected them.

Cisco sighed and rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. 

“Would you lie down for me?” Harry asked.

Cisco trembled for a moment and it wasn’t in a good way.  “Negatory, Ghost Rider.”

“This is also fine,” Harry amended, and then kept his hands up and petting Cisco’s arms and shoulders until his significant other had calmed again.  He craned his head back so that he could see where his hands wandered. 

Cisco was indeed soft and warm under his palms, and his bare hips in his grip was tantalizing.  The slope of his belly pleased Harry on a primitive level. 

He decided against kneeling to continue his explorations down Cisco’s legs, but did eyeball them with a great deal of intensity.  Where his upper body was more subtly built and also more obviously padded, his legs were muscular and his ass was deliciously round.  Harry kept his hands above the small of Cisco’s back, his lower region far from his significant other, and focused intently on committing it all to memory.

“Your tan is even,” he noted.

Cisco huffed against his collarbone.  “What tan?  You think I get outside at all?”

Harry nodded to the wisdom of that statement.  “Only when you’re chasing menaces around the city.”

“And Barry,” Cisco added.  “Don’t forget Barry.”

“I reiterate: Menaces.”

“…  Okay, yeah, he’s a menace.”  He sighed and his breath was hot, even through Harry’s Henley.  Or maybe that was just Harry.  “Can you keep stroking my back?”

“Of course,” Harry murmured, and pet Cisco from the tops of his shoulders to slightly above the dimples on his lower back with his fingertips, enjoying the goosebumps that rose up.  Cisco’s eyes slipped shut and he hummed happily. 

They stood there for longer than Harry had thought they would, his hands slowly and greedily wandering while remaining innocent in nature – explorative, gentle, and not demanding in the least.  Cisco leaned more and more into him until he was breathing deeply and almost completely held up by Harry.

“It’s time for bed,” Harry decided, wrapping his arms around Cisco’s waist and kissing the crown of his head.  “You’re falling asleep on your feet.”

“’M not,” Cisco mumbled.

“If you’re good,” Harry promised, “You can play with my Craftsman tool set in the morning.”

“’M an adult.”

“Act like one.”

“No.”

“Go to bed or we’re not cuddling tonight,” Harry threatened.

Cisco made a wounded noise and finally stumbled toward the cot.  He only remembered after he had collapsed on it that he was naked and reached with great despair and failure toward his underwear on the ground.  His hand fell short and he looked up at Harry with hope and need.

Harry sighed and, instead of grabbing the Star Trek boxers, pulled out a pair of his own shorts and one of his sweaters. 

It got cold in S.T.A.R. Labs at night, as they had both found out.

Cisco made unhappy noises as he struggled to dress himself.  “I hate life,” he whined, but somehow managed to pull the boxers on. 

“Liar,” Harry accused, and pulled the sweater over Cisco’s head.

“Dick,” Cisco shot back, half-asleep.  “C’mere.”  He pulled on Harry’s belt loops and Harry lost all hope of changing into more comfortable clothes.  He was dragged into bed and Cisco flopped unapologetically on top of him.  With a heavy sigh, Cisco kissed him one last time and fell asleep moments later.

Harry stared at the ceiling.  This was his life.  This was his life and it was a mess.

It was a mess and he wouldn’t change any of it.

 

 


End file.
